


The Clove Hitch Knot

by MaskedShipper



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: (Though Kevin Resists the Safety), Dom/sub Undertones, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Light BDSM, M/M, Penetrative Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Rope Bondage, Safe Sane and Consensual, Very Vague Mentions of Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 23:54:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16274972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskedShipper/pseuds/MaskedShipper
Summary: Earl had tried dating people who were the opposite of Cecil. He’d tried not-dating people. He’d tried forgetting he was a man of flesh and blood who ached for companionship. He had never before recently tried dating someone exactlylikeCecil, save for his voice and smile, who enjoyed leather pants trimmed with feathers or who spoke about the radio like it was a god meant to be appeased.“This is averynice meal, Earl! I’m impressed! Tell me, did you pickle all the parts you didn’t use? Are the teeth in a jar somewhere? Do you think I could… see them?”The illusion was shattered every time Kevin opened his mouth. Thank goodness there was a knot for that.





	The Clove Hitch Knot

It may not have been the best life choice he’d made, but it certainly wasn’t the _worst_ , if you tallied them all up and compared. He also liked to think that Kevin got something out of this, too. 

Cecil was always out of Earl’s league, both in their youth and now, with Carlos around. He never held that against him, because the heart was a complicated, complex matter, but it wasn’t always easy to accept. Nineteen was an age where you felt like the world wronged you through no fault of your own, but you fed each insecurity you told no one about in hiding, in the dead of night, so that each day you were less and less confident regardless of how you pretended to be more and more sure of yourself. And Earl had been nineteen for a _long_ time. It had been a quite few decades of trying to put Cecil out of his mind. 

And really, he’d put effort into it. Earl had tried dating people who were the opposite of Cecil, after all. He’d tried not-dating people. He’d tried forgetting he was a man of flesh and blood who ached for companionship. 

He had never before recently tried dating someone exactly _like_ Cecil, save for his voice and smile, who enjoyed leather pants trimmed with feathers or who spoke about the radio like it was a god meant to be appeased. 

“This is a _very_ nice meal, Earl! I’m impressed! Tell me, did you pickle all the parts you didn’t use? Are the teeth in a jar somewhere? Do you think I could… see them?” 

The illusion was shattered every time Kevin opened his mouth. Thank goodness there was a knot for that. 

#

“Too tight?” Earl asked as he pulled at the rope, forcing Kevin’s wrists together behind his back. 

There was a hum as the man before him tested at the bonds, the rough material of it already leaving scratchy red stripes against his skin. “I thought you were good at this,” he said, eyes alight with positivity and encouragement, voice dripping with poisonous condescension. “I can’t feel my heart in my fingertips _quite_ yet, and – ” a gasp, excited and giddy, escaped him as Earl got back to work, crossing rope so it made an ‘X’ along Kevin’s chest and the loose ends were at his shoulders, before he hooked his wrists to it so that, at his mercy and will, he could drag those joined hands higher up along his back, uncomfortable and just on the brink of pain. “ _Much_ better, Earl! I knew you had it in you! Now, if you could _just_ – ” 

“Safe word.” Earl moved to Kevin’s front, brow raised, a gag of his own creation – a softer rope, because no matter how much Kevin insisted he liked the prickly sensation of the one they’d bought at the hardware store together, Earl wasn’t _sadistic_. It was a knot, intricate and tight, at the center of silky material, just large enough that Kevin could still make sweet sounds while the particular words were muffled. Earl had learned early on that a critique during sex didn’t quite keep him hard the way it did for the other.

Kevin, for his part, eyed the gag with interest, but it was clear he was displeased at the request of a safe word. They went through this every time, and almost each time, without fail, Kevin contested. _How can I have fun if I know you can just… stop? That hardly seems fair,_ he had said in the beginning, but the redhead stood his ground. 

An idea came to him and Earl could tell it’d be something ugly and unpleasant because of how those eyes glanced up at him, coy and confident. “Cecil,” Kevin hummed, a laugh soon following, hollow and echoing through the crevices of Earl’s heart. His jaw clenched, his body tensed, and he nodded, accepting the word. 

He’d had a hard time not saying that name in the beginning, but he was getting better. If he’d known that being honest with Kevin would lead to his torture, would lead to him having to censor his moans and choked cries when they were together, maybe he’d have insisted they stick to just one word from the get-go and not have it change every time. 

“And your safe movement?” 

There was a huff, exaggeratedly dramatic, and Earl already knew what Kevin’s protest would be. “Come on, Earl, you know I can take _way_ more than _this_. You’re getting better, of course, progress is important when judging efficiency, but can’t you trust me to be able to handle it? Can’t you – _oh my_.” 

Earl tugged the rope once, hard, Kevin’s wrists forced impossibly higher toward his shoulders, the fabric leaving angry marks that burned into his skin. They would be bruises soon if Kevin kept resisting, if he kept forcing Earl to these tactics to get him to comply. 

Which, if he really thought about it, might have been what Kevin wanted in the first place. 

Those eyes were half lidded, his cock already hardening. Earl had a great view of Kevin’s naked body, of _Cecil’s_ body, all smooth flesh and intricate tattoos and scars from times he was too afraid to ask about or acknowledge. Earl was, of course, fully clothed, but sometimes when Kevin looked at him it was like he could see past that, could see into the very cracks of his soul, could find each insecurity, each fault, and latch onto it until it throbbed painfully. 

The man in rope licked his lips, sharp teeth in view for just a moment, smiling so bright it no doubt ached his cheeks. And then, giving Earl the illusion of compliance, he clapped. 

Good. He settled the gag into his mouth, Kevin purring at the touch, complacent as Earl tied it securely. As if he was the one who’d won. As if _he_ , soon to be completely bound and unable to move, was the one in charge. 

It didn’t matter, in the end. At least now they could get started. 

#

"I don't know how he does it, Cecil. One minute I'm insisting we have our date at my place, and the next, my shoes are sticky red and I'm doing my best not to lay my satchel anywhere. It looks messy, but to be honest, it shows how meticulous he can be - there isn't _one_ surface spared of it, and it’s so… evenly coated." 

There was silence for a few moments, before the radio host cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable.

"I think, Earl, that maybe we should get back on track with the recipe? For the sake of our interested, hungry Listeners. Before they... lose their appetite completely." 

Earl made a noise of acknowledgement, but he was distracted for the rest of the show.

#

“Too tight?” 

There was an unhappy growl through the knot-gag, regardless of the placating smile the naked man wore. Earl didn’t care if it annoyed him. The knot at Kevin’s back turned into two loops by his expert ropesmanship and he secured his biceps within each before making a new knot from the rest of it. 

“Too tight?” 

Another dissatisfied exhale, teeth chewing at the rope in his mouth, grinding down in annoyance. Kevin’s dick was only half interested by the angry red stripes where there had been rope on his pelvis last night. 

Another knot, another two loops, Kevin’s forearms secured behind his back. Dragonfly sleeves looked lovely on him, especially with this rough cord.

“Too tight?” Earl asked, not at all bothered by Kevin’s growing exasperation. 

He should have known it wouldn’t work out well this way this time around. Kevin’s sweet smile had been the same as it always was today, but his eyes had betrayed him when they met up, and his rants about Night Vale’s inefficiency and lack of appreciation for _all_ his _hard work_ should have told him that tonight would have been better if they’d gotten on with it faster. But Kevin had been the one to pick the type of rope, to assume the position to be tied up, and Earl wasn’t going to do this without making sure he wasn’t hurting him. 

When they finally got to fucking, Kevin bound and immobile and gasping sweet whimpers and muffled moans, Earl hadn’t been able to hide that his own groans sounded an awful lot like a name that was not Kevin’s own. 

The cry that came from Kevin’s release was the angriest he’d ever heard him. Earl hesitated, hips stuttering with uncertainty at the display, but then Kevin said it, “ _Cecil_ ,” and even if Earl knew it was a punishment to use that word now, when he’d spilled himself on the hardwood floors and Earl was still hard and buried inside him, Kevin went limp, a ragdoll, as if the safe word had triggered him to deactivate somehow. 

Earl pulled out with a heavy sigh, balls aching with need, but got to work undoing the crossing fabric on Kevin’s body. Kevin lay against the floor in an uncomfortable position, not holding himself up at all, not reacting to Earl’s touch at all either, just staring at nothing wide-eyed and with a perfect, peaceful smile on his face. 

That smile worried Earl more than any of the sticky red from the floor that had come to cling to Kevin’s skin. 

#

“He’s not any more complicated than anyone else,” Carlos said into his mug of tea, sitting comfortably and calmly at his workbench, watching Earl pace in his lab. 

“It really seems like a different shade of complicated,” the chef insisted, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing at his face as if that might bring him some clarity. 

“Maybe he says the same about you.” 

Earl’s pacing halted, his brows furrowed as he stared at Carlos incredulously. “Has he been talking to you about me?” 

Carlos promptly remembered that there was something in the lab that needed his full attention. 

#

Earl insisted they have a blanket on the ground for positions like this, regardless of how Kevin insisted right back that it was hardly efficient to _add_ work when they were trying to _relax_. Earl clarified that the blanket did not, in fact, need to be splattered with… whatever was splattered everywhere else here, but Kevin just laughed like he was being silly. 

He didn’t like having his cheek pressed into the softness of it, but Earl suspected it was mainly because the blanket was blocking him from his ‘nicely decorated, sweet-smelling, entirely stylish – don’t people in Night Vale know _anything_ about style?’ floor. Still, he endured it, letting Earl bend him forward so his ass was on display with his weight resting on his face and shoulders. He gently guided Kevin’s arms beneath him, between his legs, so he could go about setting intricate knots and loops that connected his ankles to his wrists, the whole of it secure by a rope around his thighs, just low enough that, once Kevin’s cock was fully attentive, it’d rub against that material he liked so much. All the while, Kevin rambled about how the radio station still wouldn’t play his ideas, and really, hadn’t he been here long enough to earn himself a two minute segment? There was _so much_ dead air when Cecil wasn’t on and he could help fill it and be a productive member of society and he wouldn’t touch any of Cecil’s things or redecorate or _anything_ – honest!

Earl was more than satisfied when those words came to a stuttering halt and Kevin moaned, deep and long, voice pulsing with a strange energy, trying – and failing – to rub his hips against the blanket for some friction. “This alright?” Earl asked from his spot kneeling behind him, hands spreading those ass cheeks, already one finger deep. 

There was no answer so Earl leaned to the side to get a peek at Kevin’s face to try and gage his reaction from his expression. There it was, the same, not-as-creepy-as-people-made-it-out-to-be-but-still-pretty-unsettling smile. Earl knew not to focus his attention on it, to check for the clenching of his jaw instead or the furrow of his brow or the rhythm of his breathing. Though it had to burn, Kevin looked entirely relaxed and at peace.

Earl found himself smiling, though it wasn’t pride that he was good at this, or eagerness that he was going to test out the bonds of his handy knots. It was far too small for that, too intimate, and he immediately wiped it off to focus on the task at hand. 

Kevin, he knew from experience, did not enjoy things of a dry nature – both in his personal life and in the bedroom. But, also learned from experience, he _definitely_ didn’t enjoy products meant to make their hobbies safer or more pleasurable. He claimed to have an allergy to lube, and that expensive, natural oil he’d bought just for him, or anything else Earl might have found to replace it. 

But a Scoutmaster was always resourceful. 

Ass still spread apart by calloused hands, Earl licked at the entrance his finger was still buried into, kissing at the rim and pulling out just enough to coat his finger in saliva before slipping it back in, harder than he should. Kevin’s mouth hung open, sounds like prayers in a dead language escaping him, a low, delectable hum of curses in a tongue Earl didn’t understand but that filled his cock with arousal regardless. Two fingers, then three, far too soon, thrusting in and out slowly, scissoring gently, Earl’s tongue ready each time they slipped out, dragging against that reddened, stretching hole and trying to push its way in to coat Kevin with spit from the inside. 

The rope, Earl suspected, was all that kept Kevin from melting into a helpless puddle on the ground, helped keep his ass up so Earl’s spare hand could wander, could cup Kevin’s balls, could stroke his hard cock, all while he fucked him with his tongue and fingers. 

Earl would have hesitated if this was anyone else, but Kevin’s eyes were shut, face lax, smile serene, and so he straightened, still with his fingers deep inside him, crooking them just _so_ so that Kevin whimpered and mewled and drooled against the blanket in his desperation for more. He slicked up his throbbing arousal with his own spit and replaced his calloused fingers with his thick cock, thrusting into him. His hands rubbed at Kevin’s skin gently, soothingly, at odds with the roughness of the rope and the intense, wet tightness around him, pulling his dick deeper into his body. 

With his brutal pace, his too-harsh snapping of hips, the roughness of his cock dragging out slowly only to force itself back in, he pulled at a knot at Kevin’s shoulder blades, one that jerked him upward but not by much, because the binding of his legs and wrists kept him face down against the blanket. Kevin cried out something unholy and beautiful, arching as best he could, and Earl fucked him through it, pace ruthless and hands loving and if there was blood, he certainly couldn’t tell if he’d caused it or if it was just a remnant from whatever entrails were already on the floor before he got there. 

He spilled himself inside that tight, willing heat with a shout that sounded an awful lot like _Kevin_ , and the man beneath him quivered, coming untouched.

#

“Did I spend the night?” Earl asked the darkness, voice thick with confusion and sleep. 

“Roger’s at summer camp. Your memory must be failing you – we should get that fixed if you want to keep being a productive member of society,” Kevin declared, voice bright and not at all affected by rest. But then, he might not have slept at all. He had a habit of doing that, always claiming how inefficient it was that Earl closed his eyes for five to seven hours a night.

“Oh.”

The usual metallic tang of Kevin's home had nestled in its familiar spot in his nose, but there was something else there with it, making Earl sit up slightly. "Did you make me coffee?" 

There was a moment of hesitation before Kevin hummed, “I can't have you sleeping _all day_ , Earl. How wasteful! What would your employer think of me?”

A smile came to him, lazy and unbidden, and Earl plopped back onto the bed with a murmured _'thanks, Sunshine_ ', before falling promptly back asleep. If Kevin’s grin softened, there was no one to witness it and accuse him of such unproductivity. 

#

Kevin sat cross-legged and naked on Earl’s bed, arms up and wrists tucked behind his neck. Rope around his wrists and forearms secured them in place, and a lovely portion of rope was in front, connecting it all and fitting just right between Kevin’s sharp teeth. Not their usual gag, but with his lips already red and swollen from the material, Earl couldn’t help but appreciate his handiwork. 

“Safe movement?” Earl asked, standing by the bed and already working to shed his shirt and pants. He heard the dull clap and nodded his acknowledgement. “Safe word?” Kevin could still speak rather well, the fabric against his lips not thick enough to muffle sound, but still, Earl’s brows furrowed as if he hadn’t heard right. “I’m sorry, what was that?” 

“Red,” Kevin repeated, eyes fluttering closed and serene smile ready for whatever Earl had planned for him tonight. ‘Red’ was _not_ the same word as ‘ _Cecil_ ’, which had been Kevin’s usual choice for weeks now. If Earl’s stomach flopped, if his heart pumped blood warmed by emotion instead of arousal, if the feeling like he’d secretly won something he hadn’t known he’d been fighting for crept up on him, he did his best not to show it. 

An expanse of smooth skin dusted with freckles was finally revealed as Earl gave a hum to signal that he’d heard the word and accepted it. He knelt on the bed in front of the other, now as naked as he was, hands calloused but gentle as they roamed. He tugged at Kevin’s nipples, scratched at his chest, and, when he was done appreciated how the other’s body arched at his touch, he pushed him down onto the bed and straddled his hips. 

Kevin wasn’t usually comfortable on a bed, and more than that, it was rare they ever did anything at _Earl’s place_. Earl, for his part, rewarded this nice change by pressing his fingers past the rope and into Kevin’s waiting, eager mouth, dragging them against his willing tongue even if the other couldn’t quite suck (though he tried to), getting them soaked in spit. When he pulled his slicked fingers away, he curled them around his dick, hissing at the pressure, at the pleasure, and deciding that Kevin was out of his comfort zone enough to be spoiled. Earl leaned over him, dragging their cocks together, saliva-soaked fingers forcing their hard dicks to press against each other while he thrust, while Kevin moaned and bucked and arched against him. It was a day for newness: his legs weren’t bound, and they were on a bed, and so Earl let himself indulge, high on the feeling of Kevin desperately thrusting into his hand, against his cock, and kissed him. 

The rope was rough on his lips, but Kevin moaned so obscenely that Earl didn’t mind it, dragging their lips together and slipping his tongue against the cord so he could get a proper taste of him, all while their cocks rubbed together, slicker now with the precum dribbling from their dicks, pulsing matching heartbeats, Earl’s large hand spread wide to try and pump them both at once. 

He rocked into him, thrusting into his palm and against Kevin’s cock, slow and hard. Kevin’s breath became shaky, each exhale a whimper or a hum, an instruction muffled by rope and once, just once, Earl thought he heard him say _you’re doing very good work, Early, so efficient, so good_. He’d never thought a critique would affect him, but then, he’d never gotten such a positive review from his lover before. The words pooled in his abdomen, pulsed in his aching cock, spurred him on so that he was grunting with the effort of fucking his hand. 

With their foreheads pressed together, their bodies writhing together, Earl breathed from Kevin’s lungs and kissed him again, pressing his own praises (“Perfect for me, Sunshine, such a pretty mouth you’ve got, such lovely noises you make…”) right up against the rope between his lips. He pressed kisses to his jaw, to his neck, nipped at Kevin’s throat only to soothe the bite with a harsh suckling that would bruise, because nothing soothed him like pain or marks on his skin, nothing made him keen or moan so desperately. Only Earl. _Only_ him. 

Kevin came undone, arching in his desperation for more friction, and Earl ignored his own arousal to stroke him more firmly through it, to milk his orgasm right out of him. When Kevin was sated and still and peaceful, body no longer bucking wildly, Earl slicked his dick up with his cum and straddled his waist, streaking his own release against his lover’s chest and jaw. 

His body grew heavier, ached for sleep, but Earl only rested his eyes a moment before he was sitting up on his haunches and getting to work undoing the rope. Kevin shook his head, causing the redhead to frown. 

“Leave it,” he hummed, voice raw and husky, and Earl hesitated a moment before obeying. Their usual post-sex routine altered, he found himself unsure of what to do, and eventually settled for just… laying himself beside Kevin, an arm draped around him, not minding the mess he smeared about while doing so. This was… nice. He could feel Kevin’s breathing even out against him, and his own followed suit, until he allowed his eyelids to flutter shut. 

“Earl?” 

Earl blinked them back open, propping up on his elbow and resting his chin in his hand so he could raise a brow in response to the question. Kevin’s smile looked… different, if only for a second, though the chef couldn’t really say if it was a trick of light or not. 

“Do you think – only for next time, of course – that perhaps we could try something… kinky?” 

And it was then that Earl realised that he could no longer deny that he liked Kevin, because his answer was a grin of his own that he pressed against his lover’s.


End file.
